BOOK VI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
May the god with the face of an elephant,*[1] who appears, with his head bowed down and then raised, to be continually threatening the hosts of obstacles, protect you.
I adore the god of Love, pierced with the showers of whose arrows even the body of Śiva seems to bristle with dense thorns, when embraced by Umá.
Now hear the heavenly adventures which Naraváhanadatta, speaking of himself in the third person, told from the very beginning, after he had obtained the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, and had been questioned about the story of his life on some occasion or other by the seven Rishis and their wives.
Then that Naraváhanadatta being carefully brought up by his father, passed his eighth year. The prince lived at that time with the sons of the ministers, being instructed in sciences, and sporting in gardens. And the queen Vásavadattá and Padmávatí also on account of their exceeding affection were devoted to him day and night. He was distinguished by a body which was sprung from a noble stock, and bent under the weight of his growing virtues, and gradually tilled out, as also by a bow which was made of a good bamboo, which bent as the string rose, and slowly arched itself into a crescent, †[2] And his father the king of Vatsa spent his time in wishes for his marriage and other happiness, delightful because so soon to bear fruit. Now hear what happened at this point of the story.
Story of the merchant's son in Takshaśilá.:—There was once a city named Takshaśilá ‡[3] on the banks of the Vitastá, the reflection of whose long line of palaces gleamed in the waters of the river, as if it were the capital of the lower regions come to gaze at its splendour. In it there dwelt a king named Kalingadatta, a distinguished
